sam_storyteller (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sam_storyteller) wrote2005-07-12 10:36 am
sam_storyteller) wrote2005-07-12 10:36 am
Entry tags:
- ao3,
- crossovers,
- dexter,
- ncis,
- podfic
Style (Dexter/NCIS)
Title: Style
Rating: PG-13 for gore and violence
Summary: Dexter makes a friend.
Fandoms: Dexter, NCIS
Warnings: Mention of rape; graphic depictions of implicitly-condoned serial murder.
Originally Posted 2.10.09
Also available at AO3.
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
reena_jenkins has done a podfic of this fic!
***
I knew the first time we met that he was a kindred spirit. It's something about the eyes, and the way we move.
Local NCIS stole a case from us when we found out he was a Marine, and they kept hitting a dead end so they asked for some hotshot from DC. They got the hotshot they wanted, too: Tony DiNozzo, all swagger and classic films and handsome sharp smiles. I kept my hand in the case because I'm better at spatter than their guys and they knew it, which is why I got to meet Agent DiNozzo, and give him the grin -- the one that says, I know what you are.
We both figured out who it was pretty early on. There was a guy, and a little girl who got raped, and her dead Marine daddy. We were still looking for proof the guy raped the girl and killed her dad when we both realised it was a race.
Not to catch him and convict him. Oh no. Just a race to find him. A private race. Between Dexter and DiNozzo.
He got there first.
Well, I wasn't far behind, actually.
I walked in when he was elbows-deep in the guts of a living man. I liked DiNozzo; he's got flair, so I let him live even though he was poaching on my territory. He got scared, of course, until I picked up a knife and said, which is pretty snappy if I say so myself, "Mind if I cut in?"
After we finished having our fun, we had a few beers (he brought a cooler). "Rule Fifteen: never drink on the job; wait until after. That's what my boss says," he said to me.
"I like his style," I said. "He teach you how to cut like that?"
DiNozzo shook his head. "Nah. I watch a lot of autopsies. And I have this friend, Abbs. She likes crime scene photos, the gorier the better, she's always got something new to show me. She's seen some of my work. Doesn't know it though."
"You keep a kill count? Souvenirs?"
"Can't afford to." He laughed then. "You know what's funny? I've been accused of murder like...three times. And none of them were ever my hit. They've tossed my place, they've put me in cuffs, they've interrogated me for three murders I never committed. One time they thought I was a biter."
"Are you?"
"Ew, and no," he said. I shrugged. Takes all kinds. "I've killed eighteen scumbags who richly deserved it, but I didn't shoot my girlfriend's dad either. Even if he probably deserved it too. So," he added. "You like blood."
"Yeah. You?"
"I like classic film," he said contemplatively. "So, where do you dump around here?"
"I got a boat. Want me to handle it?"
He lit up with a smile. "Would you? I was worried about that."
"Sure, no problem."
"Hey, listen, I really didn't mean to steal your thunder here. You come up to DC sometime, I'll give you a tour, we'll have some fun."
I gave him my business card.
"You really don't keep any souvenirs at all?" I asked, as we parted ways.
"It's all up here," he said, tapping his temple. "Be seeing you, Dex."
"Seeya, DiNozzo."
Rating: PG-13 for gore and violence
Summary: Dexter makes a friend.
Fandoms: Dexter, NCIS
Warnings: Mention of rape; graphic depictions of implicitly-condoned serial murder.
Originally Posted 2.10.09
Also available at AO3.
reena_jenkins has done a podfic of this fic! ***
I knew the first time we met that he was a kindred spirit. It's something about the eyes, and the way we move.
Local NCIS stole a case from us when we found out he was a Marine, and they kept hitting a dead end so they asked for some hotshot from DC. They got the hotshot they wanted, too: Tony DiNozzo, all swagger and classic films and handsome sharp smiles. I kept my hand in the case because I'm better at spatter than their guys and they knew it, which is why I got to meet Agent DiNozzo, and give him the grin -- the one that says, I know what you are.
We both figured out who it was pretty early on. There was a guy, and a little girl who got raped, and her dead Marine daddy. We were still looking for proof the guy raped the girl and killed her dad when we both realised it was a race.
Not to catch him and convict him. Oh no. Just a race to find him. A private race. Between Dexter and DiNozzo.
He got there first.
Well, I wasn't far behind, actually.
I walked in when he was elbows-deep in the guts of a living man. I liked DiNozzo; he's got flair, so I let him live even though he was poaching on my territory. He got scared, of course, until I picked up a knife and said, which is pretty snappy if I say so myself, "Mind if I cut in?"
After we finished having our fun, we had a few beers (he brought a cooler). "Rule Fifteen: never drink on the job; wait until after. That's what my boss says," he said to me.
"I like his style," I said. "He teach you how to cut like that?"
DiNozzo shook his head. "Nah. I watch a lot of autopsies. And I have this friend, Abbs. She likes crime scene photos, the gorier the better, she's always got something new to show me. She's seen some of my work. Doesn't know it though."
"You keep a kill count? Souvenirs?"
"Can't afford to." He laughed then. "You know what's funny? I've been accused of murder like...three times. And none of them were ever my hit. They've tossed my place, they've put me in cuffs, they've interrogated me for three murders I never committed. One time they thought I was a biter."
"Are you?"
"Ew, and no," he said. I shrugged. Takes all kinds. "I've killed eighteen scumbags who richly deserved it, but I didn't shoot my girlfriend's dad either. Even if he probably deserved it too. So," he added. "You like blood."
"Yeah. You?"
"I like classic film," he said contemplatively. "So, where do you dump around here?"
"I got a boat. Want me to handle it?"
He lit up with a smile. "Would you? I was worried about that."
"Sure, no problem."
"Hey, listen, I really didn't mean to steal your thunder here. You come up to DC sometime, I'll give you a tour, we'll have some fun."
I gave him my business card.
"You really don't keep any souvenirs at all?" I asked, as we parted ways.
"It's all up here," he said, tapping his temple. "Be seeing you, Dex."
"Seeya, DiNozzo."
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